


Cast in Iron

by chaoticxthunder (orphan_account)



Category: American Assassin (2017), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Game of Thrones-esque, Half-Sibling Incest, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 11:09:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20357506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/chaoticxthunder
Summary: Game of Thrones - Daenerys and Viserys-inspired fic in which Mitch and Stiles' father has struck a deal with an alpha to sell Stiles in exchange for wealth and power. But Mitch is prepared, and he won't let that happen.





	Cast in Iron

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheCookieOfDoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/gifts).

> Dear All,
> 
> Don't faint, I know I haven't written anything in years, but it seems I will do just about anything for My Wife whom I wrote this fic. I largely expect the only people interested in this are myself and her, and that's perfectly ok with me. 
> 
> A smidge of backstory for the rest of you: Stiles and Mitch are half brothers, forcefully still under their father's 'guardianship', and their father took Mitch in when he was young, older than Stiles but for all psychological intents and purposes still a kid. John is not who I pictured as their father in this personally, but the beauty of fiction is that you can picture anyone you wish. Werewolves are known in this verse, and hopefully you can see the GoT inspiration. - If I say much more I will have given it all away. 
> 
> Anyway. I wish my darling a very happy birthday, and this is just the first part of your gift, my love, which I hope you will enjoy <3
> 
> \- ML

The fading light of the setting sun caught in their hair as they moved together, the rays playing through the whorls and waves with an intensifying fervour the faster they moved. This was the last time and the universe seemed to know it. Still and quiet except for their panting breaths, the room was frozen into a hush, like if anything other than them moved it would all shatter. 

Stiles remembers the thundering howls from the first time he’d seen Them, thinks everything is going to break and crumble anyway. 

“I’m scared,” he breathes, no louder than a whisper as he hugs the man moving above him closer. He’s strong and beautiful and steady as a rock - everything Stiles can’t be. 

Mitch stops. Kisses him sweetly. Doesn’t let on to the fact that he is too. More than Stiles could ever know. 

* * *

Morning breaks the comforting dark of night all too soon, and the sky wakes up as it always has and as it always will. 

Mitch left Stiles in his room hours ago, already risking too much under the watchful, blind eyes of their father. When he returned to his own bed that night, cold and shivering despite the summer night, the house had settled, and in that moment it was like their fate was cast in iron by something more powerful than the alpha buying Stiles could ever hope to be. 

But iron can be cast again, and Mitch will make sure of it. 

* * *

It’s early and the clouds are thick and dark overhead, the smog of night not quite yet banished to the east winds. Summer hides above the vapor as they wait for the wolves to descend. Within the trees there is no sun to warm him, and he is left vulnerable in the blue chill of his simple clothes and the opaque air surrounding him on all sides. His father is beside him to his right, his ~half~ brother behind him to his left, miles and miles of empty space between them. 

Howls sound in the distance and draw closer, bringing the end with them. Stiles is signing his life away to their leader, and surely that will be a death sentence. 

Well, no, not Stiles. Stiles’ father. 

Seconds turn into minutes as they wait in the cavernous clearing for the footfalls of the alpha and his pack to come and claim Stiles. He stands like a lamb to the slaughter, wringing his hands in front of him like they’re confined together by an invisible chain. It feels safer, less exposed, than if he were to just let them hang down by his sides, especially when the arms he truly wants around him have never felt more out of reach. 

Almost as if the trees are bracing themselves, the arrival of the wolves makes the forest suck in a weighted breath. Nervous anticipation makes way for fear when the alpha finally comes into sight through the grey mist, and the quiet from before seems peaceful in comparison to the death of movement that overtakes them now. 

The alpha’s presence is suffocating now that he isn’t stuck in limbo, waiting for something, _anything_, to break the quiet, throat closing up as his heart vibrates with the burgeoning panic. But his limbs won’t obey him, locked in place by some latent fancy about predators not attacking prey that they can’t chase and maybe even some sick sense of duty to the man who has kept him all these years. 

His father is the first to move in their standoff, daring to face down an alpha werewolf and the three betas he’s brought with him, self-preservation forgotten at the promise of wealth. “You’re late; we had an agreement. I should put the price up.” The man’s put himself between Stiles and the alpha, and it could almost be touching if it weren't for the false bravado brought out to protect an investment.

“You could…” The alpha’s answering rumble rolls like thunder across the clearing, low and insidious, an animal in human form. Red eyes loom out of the din as a shadow of what looks like a clawed hand rises from the smog, sharp teeth suddenly bared for their eyes to feast upon as the alpha admires his shifted form. “But I don’t think that would work out in your favor,” he snarls, murderous stare fixed on Stiles’ father who goes rigid, looking about as terrified as Stiles feels. 

“Fair enough, then, the agreed upon amount.” Although his voice strains around the words, the alpha is clearly satisfied enough because he begins to advance beyond the safe distance they’ve established for themselves. 

There is nowhere left for the tension to burrow inside Stiles, so he lets himself watch as the hulking figure grows closer, bringing his doom with it, for he has no doubt that whether it be now or next year, this would end in death. 

In the moment’s held breath before he and the alpha would be truly face to face, a  _ snick _ , like the sound of a gun being cocked, rings in his ears before a gunshot shatters the silence with a deafening  _ crack _ . The alpha hits the ground and begins to pant, writhing and growling his agony as the bullet wound through his collar gurgles black blood. His beta’s shift instantly at the call of their alpha in turmoil, snarls adding to the suddenly overwhelming cacophony of noise as another three shots went off, all hitting their marks squarely in the chest. 

They fall, and Stiles can scarcely believe what's happened.

Arms are around him in time to catch him from joining them on the floor in a heap of exhausted relief as the mounting stress finally melts away. They wouldn’t survive long now, not if the way their veins were starting to burst beneath their skin was any indication, but the reprieve wouldn’t last, of course, because their father was still breathing. 

“What have you done?” Screams their father. “We had a deal! Not just me and them, but you and I." He doesn't seem to be talking to Stiles, which is a blessing, because he doesn't feel like he knows anything anymore. "I fed you, clothed you, gave you a roof over your head, kept you when I didn’t need to, and this is how you repay me? I let you stay in my house where you could see your brother-”

Another gunshot, this time to the leg. 

“Don’t you dare.” Mitch’s voice came from above him somewhere, but it didn’t sound like his Mitch, this was cold and unforgiving, harsh in a way he’d never heard before. “You kept us both prisoner for your own benefit.” 

The arms are leaving him again. No, no! He doesn’t want them to leave! He fights to cling on, but Mitch takes his warmth with his as he gets up.

“You abused us.” 

A final bullet is loaded into the chamber. Mitch stands over their father. 

“You have no power here.” 


End file.
